


Iron

by Voidbeans



Series: Vanya The Dragonborn [1]
Category: Elder Scrolls, Elder Scrolls V: Skyrim
Genre: Amnesiac Protagonist, Canon Compliant, Character Death, Civil War, Don't worry tho, F/M, Fantasy Racism, Hurt/Comfort, Implied/Referenced Torture, Post-Traumatic Stress Disorder - PTSD, Pre-Helgen, Pre-Main Quest, Racism, Shipwrecks, Slow Burn, War, hey we all make mistakes, or at least trying to be, sometimes you fuck a racist because he has sort of a hot voice, the relationship isn't really that big of a thing in the story
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-06-10
Updated: 2020-07-29
Packaged: 2021-03-03 23:08:04
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 2
Words: 6,148
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/24643825
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Voidbeans/pseuds/Voidbeans
Summary: The lone survivor of a shipwreck, a Nord woman starts her journey back home to Windhelm. Turns out the world isn't quite like how she remembered... and she fully intends to change that. To mold an iron bar into something better, however, you first need a flame.
Relationships: Female Dovahkiin | Dragonborn/Ulfric Stormcloak
Series: Vanya The Dragonborn [1]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1781770
Kudos: 7





	1. Embers

” Watch me carefully now, love.”

And watch she did, her large, ashen gray eyes following each graceful movement of the pale hands with great curiosity. The strands of sandy blonde hair obstructed her vision slightly, falling in front of her face in a tangled mess. Vanya didn't let it bother her, however. Her tiny hands clutched tightly at the back of her chair as she leaned in closer to her mother, desperately trying to catch a peek of what was happening within the fingers curled into a fist. The house was dimly lit with merely the candles on the table at the other side of the house, adding to the mystery. She had seen the magic happen several times, yet this time was different. She was teaching her.

” We live in a cold land, sweet Vanya”, her mother explained, her voice a smooth lull. ” It’s almost Sun's Dusk already. The weather will only get colder from now on. Therefore, you need to understand the importance of fire.”

The curled fingers slowly opened to reveal a bright, yellow glow within them. The flames relished the freedom of her open palm, reaching up ever so slightly towards the ceiling. It flickered and danced in the chilly house, filling this side of it with light that overcame the faint light of the candles. Vanya watched the flame with her mouth agape in awe. It almost looked like one of those ghostly creatures, wisps, that she had read about in one of her father's many books. She leaned even closer to her mother to get a better look and the chair she sat on swayed.

” You’ll fall down and hurt yourself if you carry on like that”, her mother scolded.” If you want to see better, come sit here next to me instead.”

” I’ll be careful”, Vanya replied. She lifted her hand slightly as if wanting to touch the flame but hesitated slightly. After a while of pondering she finally stated her question aloud.

” ...does it burn?”

” Only if you want it to.”

With that, her mother turned towards the fireplace loaded with logs. The gray eyes followed as the flame rolled off her mother's palm as if it was drop of water, landing in the gaps between the logs and disappearing from her sight. For a few seconds the house was clad in darkness once more, only to be lit up as the flame grew within its hiding place. The flames of the fire licked the logs hungrily and left behind trails of black coal on the wood.

” Like all fire, fire magic can be dangerous if you can't control it. You need to understand how it works to be able to use it safely.”

” Will you show me how to make flames now?”

” For now, actual flames are far too dangerous. I'll teach you how to use them where it's safe, though. Come here.”

* * *

She jolted awake at the feeling of her weight being tossed sideways as the ship rocked in the waves. For a moment she was airborne, weightless and falling. The water swallowed her whole just as quickly. The Nord woman gasped underwater, instantly regretting that reflex, bubbles erupting from her mouth in a pained cough. The salt of the water stung the fresh wounds on her flesh and the pain made her consciousness waver. The cold was the worst of it all though, slicing at her from all sides with ferocious blades and making moving almost impossible.

Her eyesight was blurred by the red spilling from her wounds. The adrenaline of her panic struck her frame like a spear piercing through. Her body spasmed out of her frozen state and she mindlessly struggled to swim.

Where was the surface?

There was light just ahead. If only she could reach it before...

The freezing cold, Northern air had never tasted more delicious. Vanya coughed to rid her lungs of water. Her arms felt weak and despite her best efforts, she soon slid back into the water from the slippery, wooden surface. She kicked her aching legs desperately and, through some effort, reached the floor again. Her nails dug lightly into the wood softened by water and with the help of a pained shout, she managed to drag herself out.

She collapsed, trembling all over and breathing heavily as she tried to recover. The cold air gave her no respite. Vanya could already feel frost gnawing on her skin, slowly creeping up her frame towards her spine starting from her toes and fingers. The siren song of giving in echoed in her mind. Surely the pain would stop sooner if she just embraced the deadly cold of her homeland waters. She had heard stories of the sailors lost at sea before. Maybe her fallen kin would even welcome her to the abyss that was the Sea of Ghosts with open arms.

” There’s no Sovngarde for those who die without a fight.”

The words of her father snapped Vanya out of her trance. She shook her head and gritted her teeth, ashen eyes scouting the shipwreck for anything helpful at all. What she saw when her eyes worked at last was a chaos of scattered books, blown out lanterns and furniture turned upside down.

Her heart skipped a beat when she spotted what was clearly a dead body afloat further in the water.

The sight of the familiar black robes struck her with a fear unlike any other, but she shook the misty recollections of the night before off. Now was not the time. Surprisingly, a single lantern had survived the ship turning over. It was still lit with a small, yet persistent flame. The glass cage around said flame had a slight crack in it, making the fire wave and flicker furiously. Gritting her teeth, Vanya reached her hands towards the lantern, fingers curling ever so slightly. It was too far from her grasp, but that didn't seem to bother her.

” _Brasa._ ”

The flickering flame all but exploded in its glass room. It licked at the see-through walls for an escape route before finding the crack. Momentarily it looked as if the flame died out completely as it shoved itself against the crack, only to soon emerge again outside of the lantern. The flame bent to the movements of Vanya's fingers and found its resting place against her wet palm. Despite the droplets rolling on her skin, the flame seemed to cling to her as if fearing for its life. The Nord sighed in relief, her breath shuddering. With a quick, calculated motion, she clutched her flame hand against her chest and closed her other palm upon it. The warmth of the ember glow helped her relax ever so slightly and the grey eyes hid behind her lids.

The sight of her mother's warm hazel eyes welcomed her in her peaceful place.  
” Now Vanya, my sweet”, she spoke with the youth from Vanya's childhood.” Foxskin is not a destruction spell like Flame is, though it does have its root in fire in a way. It's an alteration spell. Do you know how alteration spells work?”

” They bend the laws of what's real to make your will a reality”, Vanya replied quietly, a clear strain in her voice. Her mother nodded with a proud smile.

” If you ever get lost in a blizzard, remember this spell. Remember the warmth of the snow fox pelt on the armchair before the fireplace. Feel the softness of the fur in your fingers.”

She curled her fingers around the flame, and it poked out slightly through the gaps between her knuckles. She shakily stroked the flame and felt the softness of a pelt, breathed in the scent of the hide beneath the fur.

” ...and will it on yourself.”

Her deep breath no longer trembled as she let it out. As the mist of her warm breath escaped from her lips, so did the strands of flame from within her palm. The flames circled her in a flurry of yellow and orange vines, wrapping around her arms, legs and torso. The frost all but evaporated from her skin along with the drops of freezing cold water. When Vanya, at last, opened her eyes, the fire vanished from around her and left her with a slight chill running down her spine.

” Now remember. Not even a snow fox can survive forever in a blizzard. You must always seek shelter as soon as possible.”

With the frost shed off, Vanya quickly lifted her weight to a sitting position. Her numb arms protested, and she winced at the burning pain on her side.

Biting her lip, she inspected the damage on her body. A nasty cut on her side, right below her ribcage. Though the bleeding had luckily been mostly halted by the cold water, it was clear based on the stains on her ragged clothes that she had bled quite a bit. Bruises on both her ankles and wrists, wrists even with clear burns from where the cuffs had been rubbing against. Though she could only barely turn her head enough to see her shoulder, a motion which made her groan in pain, she noted an oddly shaped burn that seemed as if it sneaked its way all the way to the side of her neck. The image of purple lightning flashed before her eyes and she had to swallow a couple times to ward off the urge to vomit.

” Food is important for keeping you warm and giving you strength. Especially when you're sick. So, keep it in your belly.”

She did, with some difficulty.

A more throughout scout of the wreckage was almost of as little help to Vanya as the first one. She found a barrel with fine alto wine leaking from it into the salty waters. Perhaps the sunken captains and sailors in the depths could at least enjoy the taste now. She found more dead bodies, some Altmer, some Nord. Though most were of no use to her, left floating in the freezing waters, she managed to find a single Thalmor body crushed between a shelf and the ship wall. It took almost all her determination to find the courage to approach the figure. Ready to jolt away upon any sign of life, Vanya bit her lip and reached in to touch the golden-skinned neck.

No pulse.

With a sigh of relief, Vanya eyed the body once more. The Thalmor's one leg was mangled in a position that didn't seem natural, his blonde hair a bloody mess much like his once handsome, straight nose. Dead as could be.

Certainly, the bastard would have no need for his robes wherever he was heading.

More memories of last night flashed in her mind as Vanya struggled to pry the robes off him. The flashes of lightning, the smell of burning flesh. The feel of cold, elven steel against her throat. Losing her breath to a punch in the gut. Those damned long, gloved fingers tangling in her hair and pulling her head up to face-

She scrambled off from the body just in time not to stain the robes she knew she needed with her vomit. The stomach acid burnt in her nose and she desperately tried to blow it out on the hem of her ragged prisoner tunic. The bile was barely anything more than stomach acid. Just a few funny pieces of what seemed to have once been carrot.

Vanya didn’t even remember eating carrots.

She made a face and spat a couple times to rid herself of the foul taste. Much to her dismay, the sight of the sharp elven features curved into that awful, ugly, sadistic smirk failed to leave her mind.

There he was. The man who had put her through the worst pain she had ever experienced in her life. A man she knew not the name of, nor the history of, lay dead right there in front of her.

The mangled leg, broken nose, broken skull.

They were not even near what he deserved.

A strangled sob escaped Vanya's mouth. A swift, yet clumsy kick landed right on the dead Altmer's groin. Another kick. Yet another. The dead husk of a Thalmor failed to respond to Vanya's desperate efforts of revenge. Yet she kept kicking. Kept hitting. Tears pouring from her eyes and twisting her face into one of pure agony, rage and fear. Ignoring the protests from her wounded side, Vanya climbed atop the corpse and stared straight into that blood-stained face, rage blocking her throat. She grabbed a thick book that had fallen of the shelf that had crushed the man, lifted it above her head and smashed the corner of it right into the Thalmor's eye socket.

” You... you _fucker! Beast!_ ” she cried out, each word earning another smash to the elf's head. Though Vanya knew all too well there would be no response, no begs for mercy, she prayed for some in her mind. She prayed the cursed man would awaken somehow, that he'd scream in pain at her assault, cry for mercy beneath her.

The sound never came. Only the wet, disgusting noise of an eyeball getting crushed by brute force.

” Don’t get distracted when you're in the forest, Vanya dear. Don't you ever stray from the path or you'll never find your way home.”

Not bothering to wipe the remaining tears from her eyes, Vanya breathed heavily a few times before going back to her earlier mission. This was proven to be easier said than done with the shelf pressing the body quite tightly against the wall. For a moment Vanya contemplated moving the shelf out of the way, but the creaking of the ship made her wary. Any heavy weight in the wrong spot could have easily dragged her to the depths with the wreckage. Even staying in the wreckage for this long posed a threat.

She needed to be fast.

Now finally noticing the clasps of a cloak near the elf's collarbones, Vanya planned to just make do with the cloak alone. Though only getting the cloak would be faster in total, it would be a task of its own. After all, the fancy, soft fabric was lodged quite snugly beneath the weight of the Thalmor.

With some fabric near the clasps wrapped tightly around her both palms, Vanya got ready to pull. She positioned herself so that she could use her legs for the pull as well, using the heavy shelf itself to bounce off from.

And with one more steadying breath, she pulled.

The first pull was nowhere near enough to free the cloak. The second pull freed a lot of the fabric. Encouraged by her smaller success, Vanya took a deep breath and pulled a final time. As the sheer effort of pulling seemed to take all Vanya’s focus to keep up, the lanky Nord failed to hear the ripping sound in time to stop pulling. She stumbled backwards with the torn remnants of the cloak in her hands, almost sliding back down towards the water before steadying herself once more. Her eyes scanned the fabric hastily and she sighed. Just the hem. In her mind, she made a note to thank Talos later with a worthy offering.

It felt wrong wearing a cloak of the mer that had tortured her. Wrong wearing the uniform of someone who so deeply hated her kin. Vanya secured the clasp of the cloak with reluctant fingers and straightened the cloak properly on her shoulders. Despite the tear at the hem, the velvet-like fabric was enough to cover all her body rather snugly with even some dragging on the floor.

The inside of the cloak felt luxurious against Vanya’s skin and for a moment she was absolutely stunned. It was nothing like anything she’d ever worn before. Had it not been for the embroidered emblems near the clasps and at the edges of the cloak, she would have gladly kept the cloak. Right now, she had to fight the urge to burn the entire thing. With one last steadying breath and a grit of the teeth, to fight the pain stinging in her side again, Vanya climbed towards the bottom of the upturned ship.

Never looking back.

There was much less water in the bilge than on the former upper levels, now lower levels. Heavy cargo crates, chests and barrels had scattered all around the area, some having almost crashed through the floor into the lower levels with the wooden boards snapping and creaking under their weight. Vanya felt droplets of water fall on her nose from the bottom and winced. At least the wind didn’t get to her through the planks. She could hear it wailing outside, waiting to embrace her, and felt discouraged to even bother finding a way out for a moment.

_This ship isn’t going to stay afloat forever._

Taking a deep breath, Vanya carefully stepped on the wood boards and started searching for any holes in the keel. The planks creaked dreadfully underneath her, making hear dread every step. She soon found that the front part of the bilge was flooded and made her way towards it. And there it was. The hole for her escape.

Right beneath the surface.

Vanya cursed out loud and run her both hands through her hair. She was certain her limbs wouldn’t be able to take another dive without cramping fatally. The idea of burning her way through the keel to get to the top of it flashed in her mind but soon died out. The wood was soaked. And even if it did ignite, what was to say the winds wouldn’t blow the fire out? There were no tools around either. Perhaps in the lower levels, but risking going there would mean possibly being crushed by the cargo boxes crashing through the flooring. If not worse.

Vanya wrapped her arms around herself and dug her nails to her upper arms.

The cold wasn’t what she dreaded the most.

She could still vividly remember the bleeding bite marks covering her father’s leg. The old man had laughed it off with a proud, typical Nord grin. It had been worth it for the trophy that he hung above the fireplace, or so he claimed. Vanya had known better. Father had never walked the same since that day, nor had he gone fishing to the sea. He’d remained near the docks ever since. Vanya remembered watching her mother gently bandage the bloodied wounds, remembered staring into the dead, unblinking eyes of the large, knife-teethed fish for long minutes wondering, if there were even bigger ones hidden down in the depths of the Sea of Ghosts.

The beast had been served to her on a platter that evening. The remaining skeleton of it hung above the fireplace.

Today mother wasn’t there to prepare a meal or treat her wounds.

She needed to do this alone.

The water managed to feel even worse this time around. The cloak didn’t help. In fact, it made swimming harder. It weighed her down and pulled her in, almost like a hand clutching her by the neck and dragging her deeper. She kept gritting her teeth through the pain of the cold and the salt gnawing at her wound. Despite her efforts to keep her eyes open, to see where to swim, the pain overcame her for a split second, and she let out a scream. Bubbles erupted from her mouth, precious oxygen escaping and leaving her nearly gasping for air, just barely fighting back the urge to do so. She lost the sight of the surface in the haze of her pain and exhaustion.

Where?

Everywhere was dark.

Where to go?

Her side hit something wooden. Just follow the surface. Follow-

Her face was immediately hit with a merciless gust of cold wind. Vanya gasped for some air, her lungs aching with the lack of warmth in her body. Her claws dug to the wood, clung to any bit of surface she could possibly hold onto, but she soon found herself slipping back into the water. She barely kept herself afloat and hurriedly grabbed onto the keel once more, holding on to it desperately. It was still nighttime. The water was a dark, unblinking void of black ink and the surrounding area was filled with a thick fog. Vanya could barely tell apart the outline of an iceberg in the distance.

How far into the open sea were they?

Now shuddering violently, Vanya coughed and clumsily dragged her body on the upturned keel before allowing herself a quick moment of rest. She could feel the effects of her spell starting to fade as the cold overcame her, the frost creeping up her form to consume her. She flipped herself on her back to catch her breath better. The sky was dark. Dark clouds. No stars.

“Does Talos always watch over us, pa?”

Vanya’s eyes snapped open to the sound of her own voice. Brighter. Younger. She lifted her head up from the soft, bear pelt rug. Ashen gray eyes found a pair alike, gazing up at a bearded, red-haired Nord who smiled warmly at the child on his lap. The crackle of the fire was close, and Vanya could smell the smoke, smell the familiar rabbit stew cooking. She could smell the frost mirriam.

“Of course not”, her father’s low, yet gentle voice sounded in a weird echo. “There are times in life when we must make our own fortune. Talos himself would have never become one of the Divines by just sheer belief alone. He made his own path.”  
There was a look of ponder in the young Vanya’s eyes. After a moment of thought, she gently took a hold of her father’s beard and tugged at it to get his attention once more.

“It sounds lonely. Making your own glory. All alone.”

Her father’s laugh sent a wave of warmth through Vanya’s entire body. She couldn’t fight back a small smile creeping onto her lips.

“We’re never really alone”, he replied and gently ruffled young Vanya’s hair. “We’ve got our friends and family to help us through it all. The world is full of people who’ll be glad to help you on your path. Don’t you forget that.”

With effort, Vanya lifted her upper body up. Her movements were slow and careful, to make sure she didn’t slip on the wet wood and slide back into the depths, but she eventually made it back on her feet. With shuddering, weak breaths, and legs that could only barely even carry her by now, Vanya made her way to the part of the keel highest up. The winds tried to topple her over more than once, but she remained standing. Unfaltering. Determination filling her tired, gray eyes. She brought her palms to her chest and closed her eyes, the small word lost to the wind as she spoke it in a dry voice.

“ _Brasa._ ”

The flame that erupted from her hands was bright and yellow like the late summer hay. It burned large and extended far into the sky above Vanya’s head, flickering persistently in the freezing winds. Squeezing her fingers around the flaming orb to shield it, Vanya lifted her hand up high, as high as she could muster, and muttered a prayer.

“Talos, guardian of men. Please guide my way home.”


	2. Coal

The world was a blur of noise. The crackle of the fire, the howl of the wind, the faint sound of bubbling soup… all mixed into a slurry of an unseen landscape that Vanya could not figure out. Her eyelids felt too heavy to open and her limbs weighted like a dead mammoth. Not that she even wanted to move. The warmth of the blanket and the fire rendered her blissfully numb. Besides, she could vaguely hear the mumbling of her parents in a distance. Familiar and soft, yet…

A sudden tight feeling in her chest made her wince in alarm. The mumbles ceased and she could barely hear the footsteps approaching over the sound of her own hastened breath and heartbeat.

“Don’t move too much. You’re injured.”

The blunt, singsong words were far from the soft, low lull of her mother’s voice. Vanya groaned and wrapped the thick, woolly blanket tighter around her, as if it would protect her. She struggled to open her eyes but regretted it instantly, as the world swayed and wavered enough to make her nauseous.

“You’ve lost a good amount of blood. Drink.”

The touch of the glass bottle forced on her lips was a sharp contrast to the otherwise warm environment. Vanya pulled her face away from it with a frown. She was met with a heavy sigh.

“I’m not going to poison you. Not after all the trouble of getting you up here. _Drink._ ”

This time Vanya didn’t pull away. She tried to lift her head up enough to not choke and drank eagerly. There was a bit of disappointment upon tasting dried blue mountain flowers instead of mead, but she swallowed either way.

For such a brilliant invention, healing potions sure tasted horrible. At least in Vanya’s opinion. Sure, there were other more… bizarre ingredients to infuse it out of but blue mountain flower and wheat were the ones most readily available. Therefore, they often just tasted like hay. Like a clump of summer grass pulled fresh out of a field. She didn’t like it. Alchemical concoctions were suspicious and weird to her. They always left shudders and weird side tastes in their wake. There was an abundance of weird ingredients that Vanya had heard of being used in potions, everything from a saber cat’s eye all the way to daedra hearts. Supposedly, rarer the ingredient, stronger the potion. Sadly, this rarely meant improving the actual taste of the potion. The thought of a giant’s toe mushed up into a bottle crossed Vanya’s mind and she made a face. The last few drops of the potion went down with minor reluctance.

“Come now. You need it.”

“…thanks.”

Her voice came out in a faint, dry whisper. She coughed to clear her throat more.

The warmth of the potion was foreign with so many years since she had last needed any. It wasn’t unpleasant, not really, but the tingling sensation of it did take some getting used to.

She gave lifting herself up to sit another try, this time managing to support her weight enough with the help of her arms. Gray eyes blinked a few times to adjust to the bright light of the inn. The main hall was covered in a thin blanket of smoke from the candles and the fire in the middle of the room. She could smell fish soup and turned towards the source, noticing a Nord woman stirring a pot not far from her. She looked tired, short red hair falling in front of her face in messy locks as she gazed into the soup. The lady paid her no mind. However, there was another woman near her showing great interest in her awakening.

“How are you feeling?”

Her eyes shifted towards the sound of the voice. In an instant, she scrambled backwards from the spot on the floor she had been laid on. Her body ached at the sudden movement, breath hitching and heaving both from pain and panic.

Vanya’s eyes roamed over the features of the woman in front of her over and over, feral with fear. Golden skin. Tall, slender body hunched over to look over her with concern filling the large, yellow eyes. Her face was sharp, cheek bones well defined and just a few stray ginger hairs sticking out from beneath her hood. Vanya felt cold sweat rolling down her neck. Her fingers curled against the cold, stone floor in search for something to grasp.

Something to protect herself with.

Startled by the commotion, the Nord lady lifted her head up to watch.

“Whoa. Easy there. Don’t want that wound of yours to open up again.”

“Where am I?”

Though Vanya tried to sound threatening, her voice was weak and trembling. Her eyes refused to leave the elf in front of her, staring at her intensely. Waiting. The woman frowned slightly and lowered her hood. Long golden fingers lifted to fix her mess of a hair, pushing the escaped few locks behind her pointed ears.

“The Frozen Hearth Inn, in Winterhold. You were aboard a ship that sunk right off the coast, northwest from here”, she explained calmly.

“…how did I get here?”

“I happened to be on a stroll on the College bridge and saw your signal fire. Plenty of ships pass through here so I figured there might be trouble. I got down to investigate and found you.”

“Why?”

The lines on the face of the Altmer deepened. Her gaze faltered slightly in both confusion and irritation. It lasted a few seconds before she let out a defeated sigh.

“…look. Just tell me how you’re feeling. If you feel particularly sore, I can ask Colette to come patch you up once she wakes.”

“Colette…?”

“She’s a restoration mage from the College. I’d help myself but my specialization would hardly be of use. Unless you want more scars like that.”

The elf nodded towards Vanya, her eyes on her neck. Vanya shivered and raised a hand to touch the spot. Her fingers carefully traced the lines of her burn scar. The flash of lightning behind her eyes made her flinch and pull away, however. She closed her eyes and focused on her breathing.

“I’m… sorry”, she mumbled. “I guess I’m still a bit on edge. I don’t… remember much.”

“It’s quite alright. Just make sure you don’t move too much before you’ve had Colette check up on you.”

Vanya took a moment to look around the inn and re-orient herself to her surroundings. The place was a large log cabin not unlike her childhood home and many other buildings around Skyrim. Wooden tables lined the walls along with long benches to sit in. The furniture seemed old, the wood worn to a dull gray and her eyes even spotted a large spider web in a corner near the ceiling. It was clear they didn’t get much traffic in this god-forsaken corner of the North.

It then occurred to her.

“Um, I’m sorry”, she stuttered. “I… don’t think I have the coin to- “

“I’ve paid for your stay until you can recover.”

Gray eyes darted towards the Altmer, who now stood up and pulled her hood back up. For a moment Vanya couldn’t help but admire the sheer height of the elf.

No wonder they were called High Elves.

“…thank you”, she muttered in awe and hurried to think of something better to say. “I’ll, um- I’ll pay you back! Eventually.”  
The curve of the smile on the golden lips was delicate and barely noticeable, yet somehow full of warmth.

“Just know that you’re safe here. We can talk of repayment once you’re back on your feet. For now, I must return to the College.”

As Vanya was left speechless, the Altmer stepped away from the fire and headed towards the door. Vanya watched after her in a daze. It wasn’t until she reached for the handle that the Nord yelped.

“Wait! I didn’t get your name!”

The elf didn’t fully turn towards her, but her friendly smile was visible in the light of the fire.

“My name is Faralda. If you need me, come to the College and ask for me. But for now, rest, little Nord.”

Faralda gazed at the Nord woman cooking by the fire.

“Make sure she eats something, please.”

And with that, she left the inn for the raging blizzard.

The red-haired Nord placed a hand on her hip as the door closed.

“That Faralda”, she sighed, watching the door together with Vanya for a moment. “She has to be one of the friendliest mages in the College. If only the others were as sociable.”

Vanya straightened here posture some more with a slight groan. As she scanned the room some more to get accustomed, she noted that the Thalmor cape she'd worn was laid to dry on one of the benches near the fire. She cringed at the thought of having worn it. Visibly. This was not left unseen by the other Nord.

“I'm guessing you're not with the Thalmor.”

Vanya let out a dry laugh.  
“Gods no”, she replied and brushed a stray lock of hair off her face. “I was... I... don't remember much. Not right now.”

“Poor girl”, the red-head hummed with a soft voice. Grabbing a bowl from the nearby shelf, she scooped some soup into it before walking over to Vanya and handing it out to her.

“Name's Haran, by the way. If you need anything, just let me or my husband know. He's sleeping right now, so you'll meet him in the morning.”

Vanya nodded with a near apologetic smile.

“I'm Vanya. Thank you.”

Though Nord cuisine was famed for the heartiness and sheer volume of the food, the soup was really not much. It had plenty of fish in it for sure, but the low amount of vegetables made it taste a bit bland. The heavy, creamy consistency of it more than made up for it though. Vanya was certain she could taste a faint bit of eldar cheese in it.

While she ate, Haran took a seat on a nearby chair and watched her with seeming curiosity.

“I hate to pry, but how much do you remember?”

Vanya frowned slightly.

“Just... flashes”, she mumbled, poking at a lonely piece of carrot. She was soon joined in her frowning by Haran.

“But there were Thalmor on that ship?”

Vanya nodded. Haran seemed to tense up ever so slightly, glancing at one of the doorways near the counter before lowering her voice.

“They... they haven't started raiding this far in the East, have they?”

The sudden feeling of her guts being twisted nearly made Vanya gag. She took a shaky breath, placing her bowl on the floor in front of her. The world around her felt a bit too bright for a few seconds and the crackles of the fire sounded damn near deafening in her ears.

_The powdery snow blurring her vision as a kick landed to her side._

_The shadowy figures circling her._

_The stench of heavy smoke._

She forced herself to swallow and ran both her hands through her hair.

_Blank._  
_Back to blank._

_Please._

“...I really don't know”, she replied dryly. “I'm... sorry.”

Haran was quiet for a moment, eyeing Vanya before giving her an empathetic, gentle touch on the shoulder.

“You've been through a lot. I'm sorry if my questions sparked something foul.”

“No, no. It's fine”, Vanya hurried in her words. “I just need some rest. It's been a long night.”

“I can help you to your room if you'd like.”

“Actually... if you don't mind, could I sleep here?”

The ashen eyes peeked at Haran. The red-haired Nord seemed to hesitate briefly before nodding.

“Fire's comforting after all that icy water, huh?”

“It feels like home.”

A soft smile crept its way onto Haran's lips. She stood up and dusted off her dress, sighing faintly.

“If you think you can handle yourself for now, I'll go get some rest as well. Help yourself to another serving of soup if you'd like. There's some wood in the corner by the front door.”

Despite still feeling slightly nauseous from her attempts at remembering the past few days, Vanya couldn't help but smile with gratitude.

“I'll keep the fire going. It's the least I can do.”

Haran nodded and, with a quick wave of her hand, headed off behind the counter and disappeared into the cellar.

Left alone in next to the fire, Vanya watched her shadow stretch across the floor and onto the wall. Shapeless and bendy. Unrecognizable. It flickered and twitched with the sway of the fire, making it look like it was trying to break free from the logic connecting it to Vanya.

_Shadows cast on the snow._

_Blood._

A scream she could recognize as-

She instinctivelt crawled a little further away from the shadow, almost certain she could see blood staining it's features. Vanya's hands shook as she pulled the blanket tighter around herself, cold sweat once more running down her skin as her eyer flicked around room to settle herself down.

_She was safe here._

_There were no Thalmor here._

_Breathe._

As she settled, so did the shadow, turning back into a lifeless copy of herself. She took a few deep breaths, her grip on the fabric of the blanket loosening. Slowly, she laid herself down on the cold stone floor.

And, having clearly underestimated the level of her exhaustion, she fell asleep just about as soon as her head touched the floor.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A bit shorter than the first one but eh. I'll make sure the next one is longer.

**Author's Note:**

> I've been stuck on chapter 2 for a bit. Posting this here in hopes of motivating myself to work more on the story. I've got the story completely planned out already and I feel emotionally attached to it.  
> TBH this started off as a bit of a challenge to myself, to write a character I loathe (Ulfric) into a ship with an OC. I was inspired by this lovely fic I found ages ago on fanfiction.net about a Nord Dragonborn ending up in a weird relationship with Ondolemar. Another character I dislike. The fic actually got me to like him a bit. Or, well, at least to find him interesting.  
> If you enjoy this, please throw some kudos my way! I could really use the motivation! <3  
> And yes, I'm using Swedish words as the spell incantations. Fight me.


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